Strains

Chapter two

CHAPTER TWO

A

melia sat cross legged, her hands chained be behind her back and submerged in neck high water, her head scrapped the ceiling as she served her month long term. She hadn't done anything wrong, it just how it was, The Assembly's way of showing they owned her. They'd at random times put her through extremely discomforting and painful situations, aiming to crush her will, her self esteem, her individuality, to break her in totality.

It had been two weeks since she met that Vorax rogue who strongly and desperately desired to live. On her return, she had been stripped of her clothes, she was left only with a single piece of extremely light gown which did nothing to fight off the cold that was penetrating every part of her being. Her other form had been locked away, courtesy of the manacles which bound her wrists behind her, enchanted silver.

The fiery strength that ran through her veins just days ago had waxed cold, her blood chilled in her veins, her muscles stiff, and the possibility of drowning to death wasn't far away, if she for a moment relaxed her straight as rod back for longer than she should. The waters of her little enclosure was jaw high, and she had to sit ramrod straight with her legs crossed and her head held up, she had been in this position for two weeks, she still had two more weeks before they'd consider freeing her or putting her through another sort of torture. Her body was cold and beyond sore, she could barely feel her digits anymore.

Still, this wasn't all they had in store for her, she knew that much. They where sadistic bastards who took pleasure in her suffering, they'd up the stakes, soon. She wouldn't just be craving comfort anymore, she'd be fighting for her life.

True to her thoughts, they did raise the stakes, magic tingled in the air she breathe, driving said oxygen out of the stone and water clogged room. Her breathe came in short, she couldn't get enough air into her lungs, in a short while she'd begin to feel dizzy, perhaps she would pass out due to lack of air and then drown.

It was all she could do not to panic and hyperventilate, her thoughts where getting fuzzy by the minute, had they finally decided to kill her after all? Was this how she'd go out? She didn't want to die, not this way, not without ripping the head of everyone who had made her existence suffering and pain. She hated them.

In the face of dogged wish to survive, time had lost it meaning, Amelia held unto hate, her rage became her reason to live, her bloodlust became the fuel that kept the last embers of her pathetic existence alive, she'd live, and she'd kill them, every last one of them, though faint, these thoughts kept her going, even as her head fell and water found passage into her lungs via her nose that sucked deeply, hoping for oxygen.

Amelia didn't know how long she had been submerged under water, whilst every cell in her being fought to survive, to live for just another second longer. As she sunk into the waters, she once again knew the taste of despair, fear clogged that little, rational, part of her brain that tried so hard to find a semblance of serenity, perhaps she'd die peacefully rather than a trembling bag of flesh filled with fear and despair. She blacked out.

Amelia woke up to the men leering at her naked body as she laid on the floor, sharp stones pricked her skin and her hands cuffed still behind her back, wanton lust danced in their eyes, again, this was nothing new to her, she was the dog of The Assembly anyway, groomed to serve their every need. That was the word, their every need.

"The b***h is finally awake, it would be no fun pegging a sleeping w***e", i***t A exclaimed, looking every bit the sicko he was. "I take the front, you take the back, we'll make her scream all the way, sound good Nathan?".

"Tempting, that is one tempting idea Sam, but she hasn't completed her due penance", Nathan said. If one didn't know better, you'd think he was a woman, his voice, his physique, was more feminine than masculine.

"She hasn't? But it been a month, and she has been underwater for a week plus already, it's a miracle that she is even alive right now". Surprised suffused Sam's voice, she thought i***t A suit him better for a name.

"Feeling sorry for her?"

"Don't misunderstand me, it doesn't matter to me whether she lives or die, I'm just surprised and curious is all. What do we do with her then? Put her back in the water cave?".

"Shelve your curiosity, and no, it isn't the water hole, it something better, something I've been working on for quite sometime, you'll love it Sam". A cruel smirk played on Nathan's lips as his eyes gleamed with sadistic light. In his peripheral vision, Sam took a step back as a shiver ran down his spine, Nathan had a sadistic side to effeminacy that frightened even the vilest of werewolves, Amelia had the honor of experiencing it first hand.

For days she screamed, her throat was parched, her soul burned with intangible fire and her muscles twitched and spasmed as electricity wrecked her insides, frying her inside out. She found herself screaming the same words a certain Vorax rogue had muttered all the way to his death.

Over and over she screamed, "I will live, I will live". Perhaps, this was her karma for the sins of killing her own people. She knew no other words but those three, and as she cried and wept her eyes dry, a maniacal laughter matched her every pitch. Sorrow, despair and pain was etched into her being, her form defiled, reminding her over and again whose property she was.